


Swing with me

by moldydumpling



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Set in the 70s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3840610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moldydumpling/pseuds/moldydumpling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bill asks Stan for a dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swing with me

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about Stan and Bill dancing on swing music and the temptation was too great.
> 
> Edit: I realise I should change his name to Stanley now AToTs has aired.

Stan sat at the kitchen table. Light of the morning sun shone on his face and he blearily blinked, too groggy to get up and move his chair. The radio was playing on the background, a dull monotone man’s voice reciting today’s weather. It was one of the many mornings Stanford ate his breakfast alone as Stanley worked away down in the basement.

He absent-mindedly shifted his egg around his plate. He barely noticed the colour fading away from the edge of his vision and it was not until a familiar voice spoke up he jumped.

“Did your parents never tell you to stop playing with your food?” A voice cheerily called out. Stan’s eye twitched as he looked up. His mood soured.

“Bill,” he gritted through his teeth, “I thought I’d told you to leave me alone.”

“Too bad, kid, you can’t get rid of me that easily!” the demon replied as he circled him. Stan’s eyes followed him tiredly.

“What do you want from me?”

Bill threw up his hands in mock surprise. “You wound me, Stanford. Can’t a person just pop in and check up on their friend out of their own goodwill?”

Stan scoffed. His goodwill was as much worth as Stanley’s stamp collection. 

“Last time I checked we were no friends.” He said instead and Bill’s eye flashed.

He peered at him for a moment and Stan shifted his eyes around uneasily. “Here I thought we had something special,” Bill sighed eventually. Before Stan could reply, Bill snapped his hand and the world blurred.

Stan found himself lying face-first in his breakfast. A half-eaten egg stuck to his cheek and fell on his lap as he shot up. He made a noise of disgust and he quickly grabbed a tissue to wipe his face. He heard a snicker behind him and he groaned.

“Oh man, you should have seen your face, it was absolutely priceless!” The demon laughed, his body flashing brightly each time he bellowed. Stan clenched his fist.

“Don’t you have someone else to bother?” Stan shot at him and he threw the balled up tissue into the trash bin with more force than he had intended. “Making deals, deceiving people, ripping out deer teeth- you know, demon stuff?”

Bill crossed his legs and hummed. He stroked his non-existent chin and pretended to be deep in thought.

“Nope!” He said after a pause. “I have an empty spot in my agenda ju---st for you. Aren't you a lucky guy, Stan?”

“I feel like I’ve won the jackpot,” Stan grounded out.

Bill slapped his back and Stan almost doubled over. He almost forgot how freakishly strong the triangle was. 

“That’s the spirit!”

He sat down and grabbed the newspaper, pretending to read to avoid eye contact in the hopes Bill would eventually grow bored and teleport away to God knows where. The radio continued to play in the kitchen. A song Stan knew well started playing and he unconsciously tapped his foot along the rhythm. Bill followed the movement with his eye. 

“Say, Stanford,” he said, dragging out the first syllable, and wrapped his thin arm around Stan’s shoulder. “May I ask you for a dance?”

Stan had made a movement to push the demon away, but when Bill spoke up he paused, his arm hanging mid-air. He mentally repeated the sentence in his mind, double-checking to make sure he had heard him right. He shifted his eyes around the room as his mind processed his words. “Excuse me?”

“A dance, Stan! This silly mating ritual you meat bags call a dance! Honestly Stanford, I knew you were thick but I never thought you were this dumb.” 

Stan narrowed his eyes and finally shoved him away. “Of course I know what a dance is!” He said in annoyance. 

“Then will you dance with me?” He asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“Hell I would!” Stan got up and threw the newspaper on the table. 

“Oh come on, it’d be fun,” Bill sang. Stan stared at him, wondering what the hell the demon was playing at. His thoughts raced. He knew Bill wouldn't leave him alone until he got what he wanted and he tried to find a way to compromise.

“Fine,” he grunted. Bill beamed at him and floated in his space. Stan held up his hand. “But only if you leave me alone afterwards.”

Bill rolled his eye. “You’re no fun, kid.” He held out his palm and Stan reluctantly took his hand. A shiver went up his spine as his skin made contact with his. Even if there were no blue flames involved the entire ordeal felt too much like a deal.

The demon had doubled in size to match his height and he twirled him around. He tripped over his feet, caught off-guard, and had almost fallen down if it wasn't for Bill’s hand hooked around the small of his back. His heart was hammering in his chest.

“Fallen for my charm already?” Bill teased and Stan groaned.

“Warn me next time you pull something off like that again,” Stan said. Bill was looming over him. The corners of his eye were crinkled with mirth.

Bill pulled him up and he found himself leaning on his triangular body. Stan immediately straightened himself, just in time before Bill swayed him around, rocking their bodies along the beat of the music. 

Stan’s feet clumsily moved over the floor as they moved through kitchen. His gaze was fixed on his feet, too uncomfortable to look into Bill’s eye directly. 

It was nothing like the way used to dance with Carla. Dancing with her was like breathing, effortless and thoughtless. They would match each other’s movements seamlessly, instinctively knowing each other’s rhythm as a result of spending years living with each other. With Bill it was an entirely unfamiliar area. He would pull and Stan would follow along. Their was nothing fluid or seamless about their form.

“Sheesh, you’re even stiffer than a double shot of Jack Daniels”, Bill said after a minute. “Is relaxing even a word in your vocabulary?”

Stan grunted. “It’s kinda hard when I’m literally dancing with a brick wall.”

In response Bill dipped his body until his hair was an inch away from touching the floor. Stan yelled in surprise. 

“Sweet Moses! Alright, alright, I’m sorry!” He exclaimed and Bill lifted him back up, snickering. Stan flicked his bowtie and Bill scoffed but made no further comment.

When they resumed Stan tried to loosen his shoulders and clear his thoughts. He found that the more he concentrated on the music, the easier his movements became, and eventually he found himself falling into Bill’s pattern. He felt himself growing more confident as he twisted his feet around, moving his upper body along with the beat. When he finally looked up, he caught Bill’s eye peering at him. In one bold movement he spun him around and Bill smoothly whirled in the air, laughing, and Stan smiled as well.

When the song came to an end, Stan’s face was flushed. His chest was heaving and his hair was slightly tousled. His hand was still in Bill’s grip as he tried to catch his breath.

“I never pegged you as a ballroom dancer,” Stan eventually said, a light grin on his face.

“Oh, I have many talents,” Bill replied, but said no more.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, until Stan finally noticed his hand was still locked into Bill’s and withdrew his arm. He rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to say.

Bill spoke up. “Well then, it’s time for me to leave. See you later, Stanford!” He tipped his hat at him and bowed, and with a flash he was gone, leaving Stan alone in the kitchen once more. 

Stan stared at the spot he had disappeared from. The dance had surprisingly lifted up his mood and he could almost say it was- fun? 

“Huh.” Stan said to himself, shaking his head. He picked up his plate and placed it in the sink.


End file.
